Twenty One
by Indigo Fire
Summary: Robin recieves a few lessons from Bruce on his twentyfirst birthday. EDIT: Fixed grammer errors whiched plagued the story.


Title: Twenty-One

By: The Indigo Fire

Disclaimer: I don't own them, sigh, nor do I take any responsibility for any actions that occur when said characters are under the influence.

A/N: My first Robin fic in a while, some feedback would be greatly appreciated.

The hallway was quiet, dark, and smelled of stale beer and urine. In this type of situation I, Tim Drake also known as Robin and feared by some, usually kept a trusty Batarang in my hand but as I trudged up the stairs all I really wanted was an industrial sized can of Lysol. There was only one challenge in going to college, how to manage a job, school work, and my career as Robin all with out having another psychotic episode.

Since my dad made too much money for me to be part of the work study program I begged one of Gotham University's deans to allow me to work twice a week in one of the schools libraries. The only down side of that was that I had to work from five in the evening to ten at night, a mere thirty minutes before I went on the coveted patrol duty. Bruce had been reasonable; as reasonable as an anal-retentive, self-motivated, angst ridden, manipulative egomaniac could be. After many hours of debate he finally agreed that we would meet up every night I was scheduled to go on patrol with him at exactly ten thirty, like I said reasonable.

For the first few months things seemed to go fine, I was making decent grades in all my classes and my job allowed me the valuable quiet time I needed to study and catch up on some much needed sleep and ponder why Bruce hadn't been committed to Arkham several years ago. It wasn't until mid-semester that I began to feel the effects of having a demanding nightlife, my grades slowly began to slip and Bruce had noticed a lull in his duties. This of course wouldn't fly with him, so he gave me a choice and an ultimatum all rolled into one, needless to say I was really surprised to get a choice.

My options were to get my grades up or temporarily forfeit my duties as Robin and have either Cassandra or Stephanie fill in. Once again Bruce managed to surprise me when I proposed that I let Cassie take over my patrol schedule during the more stressful times of the school semester, namely the middle and end of each semester. This went on for two years, with Cassandra and Bruce taking care of the criminal population it was safe to assume that the crime rate of Gotham City would quickly dwindle, besides who wants to screw around with two people in capes and cowls who need a good therapist for there parent issues. But I digress.

So like I said before this went on for about two years, everything was going good up until the middle of my junior year. I had just gotten back to my apartment rooftop from a late night patrol, I had a test the next day and I needed to burn off some steam. Luckily, I found a bunch of would be muggers picking on some helpless woman. It was a quick fight; I had used my patented Drop-Down-From-Above-and-Take-Out-Two-Guys-At-Once Boy Wonder Special. The remaining two made a mad dash in opposite directions like running was going to go out of style. Unfortunate for them they weren't smart enough to not run in a straight line, a bola and a Batarang took them out. I tied up the goons and put in a call the local police department; making sure that the woman got to someplace safe. In total the whole patrol not taking more than an hour and a half, not too bad for a slow night.

So I get back to rooftop and I'm looking around to see if anyone's watching me, fat chance since it was three in the morning, and I grab a bag of clothes that I kept on the roof in a hidden spot. A few short minutes later I'm on my the floor with my apartment, bag in hand, and thinking about a big bowl of ramen noodles and the last Butterscotch Krimpet Tasty- Kake in my pantry. I dig through my pockets to search for my keys but find nothing but a few holes and a couple dead moths, which reminds me I should have bought more mothballs in the first place. No sweat right, I didn't spend the last few years with a child's worse nightmare and world's greatest detective and not learn a few things? So I toss my bag on the ground and start to rummage through it to find my utility belt and the lock pick set that I carry around.

Problem solved, a few minutes later I'm in my apartment boiling a hot pot full of water with four packs of ramen noodles. Finally I get the chance to relax before I go to bed; I crank up the volume on my television to drown out my housemate and his girlfriend having one hell of a time. I take a quick trip to the bathroom and prepare to settle in for my post- patrol ritual, eat some food, watch some TV, and then go to bed. One hour later I'm in my bed taking the train to Happy Slumber Land, that's when _he_ starts tapping on my bedroom window door.

I tried to ignore it wishing if I didn't move he couldn't see me, obviously he never saw Jurassic Park. I continue to stay still for a minute longer hoping that he'll go away because knowing him it'll be something really irrelevant. I swear he has us monitored because some somehow he always manages to visit us right when we're going to bed, last time he paid one of us a visit Dick was sent to the hospital with a concussion because he caught a Batarang with his forehead. I wasn't in the mood for one of his emotional outcries for help, I was more worried about over sleeping and missing my exam.

So after about a good fifteen minutes he stops tapping, I have to say he's a persistent nuisance. Finally it's quiet enough for me to start to drift off again then I hear it, the sound of metal rubbing against metal. Carefully I open one eye and glance toward the window, there he is all hunched over the ledge of the window picking open my lock. Finally I give him the benefit of a doubt and get up from the bed and make my way to the window and let him in. "What do you want Bruce, it's four-thirty in the morning."

"I couldn't sleep," was all I got. He started pacing back and forth around the room, the way he did when he danced around a subject. That had always bothered me; it made me wonder why Alfred never forced him to see a good therapist after he started dressing like a giant bat.

I looked at the clock on nightstand and let out a lengthy sigh, I was not going to be a happy camper when I woke up in four hours. "Ok Bruce," I said to humor him. "Why can't you sleep?"

There was that long drawn out silence that usually comes after the leader of a firing squad say the word fire. "He snores and he talks in his sleep."

"Who? Alfred?" Now I was close to losing it, "You came all the way across Gotham from your home on the outskirts of town to tell me about a person whom you've known all you life to that he snores? What the hell is wrong with you?" I was yelling now and I didn't care, he had pushed me too far. "I always knew you were crazy but I didn't have enough proof to back it up, this just shows I was right. I have an exam in the morning, which means you have to leave. If Alfred's snoring bothers you that badly just go to a different wing of the manor it's not that hard."

He just looked at me, like a child does when they don't understand a word you had just said to them. Because it was dark I couldn't see his hand moving slowly toward his belt, by the time I heard the clink of the Batarang being released it was all over. I felt just two things, a sharp stabbing pain to my forehead then another blow to the head as I fell to the floor. I didn't wake up until I heard my alarm go off that morning, I felt my forehead and found no trace of blood, just a funky wing shaped bruise. The old man was getting soft as he got up in years.

As I began to get dressed I notice something was different about my room. In the corner next to my bed tucked away neatly sat a six pack of beer and a birthday card, leave it to the Bat to get me all wound up that I forget my own birthday. Opening the card I immediately noticed the hand writing was Alfred's it read, "Dear Young Timothy, Master Bruce thought it best if take a day off from your studies to give your nerves a much needed break. He hopes this small token of appreciation will alleviate the headache you must be suffering from. Alfred Pennyworth."

It just goes to show, he may have issues but deep down inside he's just a teddy bear, a very deranged teddy bear.

Fin


End file.
